


Witchy Woman

by ruric



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Community: comment_fic, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-04-12
Updated: 2009-04-12
Packaged: 2017-11-13 19:05:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/506713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruric/pseuds/ruric
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After they’ve put what was left of his brother into the ground, after they’ve had that same ground blessed by a priest speaking words to a higher power that Sam no longer believes in, he goes a little mad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Witchy Woman

After they’ve put what was left of his brother into the ground, after they’ve had that same ground blessed by a priest speaking words to a higher power that Sam no longer believes in, he goes a little mad.

He leaves Bobby, takes the Impala and follows any lead that comes his way. 

Hunting down every demon he can find, he rips them from their hosts and sends them back where they belong. Back where his brother and his father are, no doubt, being tortured by the very best and the brightest that Hell can provide.

He doesn’t sleep, because every time he closes his eyes he sees Dean, back flattened against the table, voice hoarse with fear and pain, blood spattered redly against the pallor of his skin from the ragged wounds ripped into his body. He barely eats because he can’t bring himself to choke down food without wanting to gag.

He hangs up on Bobby these days more than he actually talks to him and when he catches a glimpse of himself in a mirror he doesn’t recognise his reflection.

With every passing day he can feel the taint in his blood getting stronger, the impurity that Azazel fed into him is eating him alive from the inside out.

Until one night there’s a knock at the door of the cheap motel he’s holed up in. 

When he yanks it open she’s there – two inches shorter than when he’d last seen her, blonde hair replaced by a tumble of raven black and her ruby lips curving into a smile as she places a hand on his chest.

“Hello, Sam.”

Doesn’t matter what the outside of her looks like, he knows who, or rather _what_ is inside the minute he looks into her eyes.

His arms are sliding around her, fingers locked into the leather of her jacket as he pulls her into the room, half dragging her off her feet so he can bury his nose in her hair and breathe.

The warmth of her body pressed against him, her fingers slipping under his shirt to touch skin, and her muffled laughter pressed into his chest tell him the one thing he’s needed to know for months.

He’s not alone.


End file.
